


Saplingverse

by jadeWillowtree



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blue is late 20s, Childhood Trauma, Children, Dream is 6, Dream is a Child, Error is 8-9, Families of Choice, Gen, Horror is early 30s, Hurt/Comfort, Immortals age slowly man, Injury, Ink is 8-9, M/M, Nightmare is 13-15, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeWillowtree/pseuds/jadeWillowtree
Summary: When Dream was six, his entire life changed in a blink of an eye.When Nightmare was six, his entire life changed with the bite of an apple.500 years later, a child Dream is wandering the Multiverse, while a teenage Nightmare tries to reunite with his (now younger) brother.
Relationships: Blue/Horror, Sans & Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 182





	1. Half of a Whole

**Author's Note:**

> first and foremost: if i see any of yall bein nasty in the comments im ending your bloodline.
> 
> anyway....
> 
> Welcome to Saplingverse!  
> this au was sparked by me remembering that in dreamtale canon, dream was like 6 when he was turned to stone. so i took that and went apeshit.  
> this fic is probs gonna be a series of out-of-order oneshots, btw
> 
> feel free to beg for updates in the comments, everyone knows i need the motivation.

When Dream woke up, he was scared. Scared of what, was the question. Looking around frantically, he could see pretty flowers and plants in so many different colors. Some colors he had never even seen before, not even when travellers would come visit the village with their foreign goods.

The sights surrounding him calmed Dream for merely a fraction of a moment, though, before his memories snapped into place.

“Nighty!” Dream gasped, before tensing up and hugging himself. Nighty…. Nighty had hurt people, hadn’t he? That…. That wasn’t good. But, they were gonna hurt both of them!

In the distance, something rustled, just loud enough to spook Dream out of his contemplation. With a soft yelp, he lurched forward from his kneeled position, instincts he wasn’t even aware of flaring. He sunk into something that confused him to try and think too hard about. It was like passing through physical light, scaring him enough to squeeze his eye sockets shut as he tumbled through the thing he had made.

As he fell forward, landing flat on his face, the…. Portal? Snapped shut behind him. Dream could feel tears beading up in his eye sockets as he registered the cold he had fallen into. Pushing himself up on clumsy hands, he looked around quickly. The ground was covered in white snow, and large trees that reminded him of home surrounded him.

Sniffling softly, Dream wiped a hand over his eye sockets, trying to calm himself. His back was to a tree, he realized, as he overbalanced and fell backwards a little. The very fabric of this place felt…. Light? Dream didn’t understand.

He curled up against the tree, before clutching at the fabric he had been wrapped in. This…. This was from the Tree, wasn’t it? Dream felt tears well up again, despite how he tried to blink them gone. The Tree was gone. Everything was _gone_ , and Nighty was…. He didn’t even _know_ what had happened to Nighty.

Dream pulled the blanket tighter around himself, a corner finding its way to his mouth as he started chewing on it. He knew it was a bad habit, and that if Nighty were there, he would scold him. But his twin wasn’t there. That knowledge made the tears come in force, a quiet sob breaking its way out of his throat. 

He buried his face in his knees, wrapped up in his blanket as he chewed. It made him feel a little better, at least, as the scary memories lashed at him. Soft sobs echoed against the trees as Dream cried, mourning the loss of his home, and the perceived loss of the one person who had been with him since the beginning.


	2. Endless White (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now for a Complete tone shift!

Everything was white. Never ending, clinical, cold, white.

The ceiling was white. The floor was white.

Everything was white.

Except for him.

He was dark. Dark black and harsh red and ugly yellow against white white White.

Error wanted to go home.

Where was home? He didn’t know. It wasn’t here though.

He cried himself to sleep those first few (Years? Days? Seconds? Months?).

And then the first voice came.

She was kind, Error thought. She wanted him to try and get out, and to not sleep all the time. She wanted him to eat, but there was nothing to eat amongst the White. 

He cried when he had to tell Her that he couldn’t do what She asked. She soothed him, telling him it was alright, it wasn’t his fault.

She taught him to open the Windows, the ones that let him view other worlds. For the first time in so very long, he smiled. There were so many colors!

But once he opened the Windows, it seemed like a new voice appeared. She was crueler than the first, speaking of Duty and Destiny.

It scared him. He didn’t, couldn’t understand.

When he tried to tell her this, he flinched at her cruel laughter that felt like it would echo forever in the White.

At least She hadn’t left him. She whispered reassurances and promises to him. Promises that he would leave someday, that she couldn’t hurt him, that he would never be truly alone.

He liked Her a whole lot, he thought.

One day, he asked Her if he had a name.


	3. Endless White (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i know we'll get back to baby dream soon, just bare with me u gotta have the Babey Boy content.

She didn’t respond for a long moment. 

Names are important, She told him. They are something that should not be handed out lightly.

What’s your name? He asked Her.

Her presence felt gentle, as if She were smiling at him fondly. She has many names, She told him. But he may call Her Fate.

Fate. That was a pretty name, he told Her. He relished in Her kind laughter.

Could he have a name, one from Her?

Of course, was Her response. Anything for Her child.

And Error became his name.

He tested the word, practicing it until he could say it with ease. Error. That was him.

So time carried on, in (Seconds? Years? Minutes? Decades?).

Error watched the lives of others play out on his Windows, longing to join them. But despite Fate’s best advice, he simply couldn’t figure it out. His Windows stayed Windows, even though she taunted him.

It wasn’t his fault, She said. He would get it soon.

Error took comfort in this, one of the few warm things he could have in the endless White. He continued trying, because it made Her happy to see him working on a tool he could use to leave.

At the same time, he practiced because it was one of the few ways she would leave him alone. The taunting and insults lashed at him as he worked, but Error used them to spur him on. Even when they made him cry, he continued.

And then one day, it worked.


	4. Hidden in the Framework

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place before "Half of a Whole"  
> Nightmare is about 8/9 in this chapter.

Nightmare rubbed the fabric of his blanket between his fingers. It was a comforting light weight over his curled body, his tentacles having tangled themselves in the soft fabric. It would take some effort to remove them, but that was for future Nightmare. Present Nightmare was too busy thinking about things to care.

The blanket was soft, the fur on the outer layer just worn enough to be soothing. Nightmare wasn’t sure what it was made of, but he didn’t really care. It was a good fabric, at least. 

In some spots, the fabric was worn down, darkened with age despite his best attempts to preserve the blanket. Despite its age, it was warm, and light against his corrupted body. Seized with a sudden need, Nightmare pressed part of the blanket’s underside to his face, gently rubbing it against his cheek.

He had acquired this blanket when he took over his castle, a hundred years or so ago. It wasn’t his best work, but it had done the job. Terrorizing the servants and populace, destroying any who remained who would not pledge their allegiance to their new king. Nightmare had stuck to the shadows, never showing himself. He was small, after all, and there were few who would be loyal to a child king.

Nightmare rubbed the blanket over the bridge of his nose, closing his eye socket as he did. He made sure not to press down too hard, remembering how it could hurt against the sensitive bone, even with the layer of sap that covered his body nowadays.

….He missed Dream. Nightmare hadn’t meant to make his twin into a statue. It had been an accident, some sort of instinct provided by the apples born from a want to protect his brother.

It was an _accident_.

But killing the villagers wasn’t an accident. Nightmare knew, he KNEW they deserved it. They had hurt him so much, so badly, and they were going to hurt Dream. They DID hurt Dream.

He rubbed the blanket over his exposed eye socket, keeping it closed. The fabric felt nice against the more fragile part of his body, a gentle, soothing drag over condensed tree sap. Nightmare was glad his corruption didn’t get on things, or drip. It would make reading really hard, and if he ruined a book, he’d probably cry. Not that he would mean to cry, but it would still happen.

At least the servants were compliant enough. He paid them decently, a good bit more than what their previous ruler had given them. It’s not like Nightmare understood money, outside of what he had learned when Dream would purchase treats for the two of them, the currency having been gifted to Dream. Besides, the castle held more than enough money in the treasury to pay for each servant and their duties.

They didn’t seem to mind that they never saw him in person, either. He would leave either scrawled requests that they would carry out, or tell them things while hidden away in the shadows. It was easier that way, and he would continue until he was big enough, or until he learned to make himself look bigger.

Nightmare rubbed his blanket against his other cheek, quietly taking in the gentle stimulation. It was a good texture, he wouldn’t tolerate any bad ones, like silk, in his bedroom after all. It was a nice dark color too, either a dark blue or purple, that was easy on his eyelights. Brighter colors weren’t as nice to look at, too sharp and harsh.

Maybe someday he’d see Dream again, if his spell ever broke. But that was just a childish fantasy. A childish fantasy that Nightmare would let himself take comfort in, just this one time.


	5. Ink Stains and Gold Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its babey hours,,,,  
> why is it that in every appearance dream had made so far, he's upset??  
> idk he just does that man.

Dream sniffled quietly as he huddled in the alleyway he had ended up in. He hadn’t meant to end up here, but he was hiding. Some Universes were just so _mean_ to him! He didn’t understand it either! Dream hadn’t done anything bad that he could think of! All he had wanted to do was play after Universe hopping again. But now he was scared, and he had scraped up his hands and knees when he fell, and all he could think to do was hide.

Hiding was familiar to him in an almost painfully sad way. Back when he had Nighty, they’d sometimes play hide-and-seek. Dream knew that his twin always let him win, though. It’s not like there were many places for them to hide by the tree. And Nighty never wanted to play in the village, either. (He knew why his brother never wanted to be around the villagers alone, now. Though even Dream’s presence didn’t save them in the end.)

Dream whimpered as he aggravated the scrapes on his hands on accident. More pale golden tears welled up in his eye sockets, spilling down his cheeks to drip onto his shirt. He didn’t know if the mean monsters were gone, but he tried to keep himself quiet anyway. Dream didn’t want more attention.

The only sounds he could hear in the alleyway were his muffled sobs and sniffles, quieted from how he would press his arms over his face. It was a little uncomfortable, but he thought it was better than hurting his hands more. One could only imagine his fright when a noise practically echoed off the alley walls.

Pressing himself further into the hidey-hole Dream had found, he muffled his fearful cry as a skeletal face pressed into the opening. The monster had bright, changing eyelights, and an ink smudge on his cheek.

“Hi! Who are you? I’ve never met you! You’re not from here!” The strange monster chattered, seemingly oblivious to the way Dream shrank back. The last question was more of a loud statement, one that Dream didn’t fully understand.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Ink!” The newly named Ink grinned at Dream, seeming to await his response. He blinked for a moment, hesitating before he spoke.

“Dream….” He said softly, causing Ink to giggle happily.

“Dream!! That’s a nice name! Do you wanna be friends? Why are you crying? Why are you hiding?” Ink asked rapidfire. It was intimidating to Dream, causing him to stutter for a response as he tried to figure out how to answer.

As he processed the question, Dream’s eyelight suddenly widened. Friends? Ink wanted to be friends? Dream hasn’t had a friend since…. Since a long time!

“I wanna be friends!” Dream exclaimed, lurching forward to escape his hiding spot, making Ink move back. Ink beamed at him.

“Yay!! I love making friends!!” Ink cheered, grabbing onto Dream and pulling him into a hug. He giggled happily, trying to hug his new friend back before wincing at the strain on his injuries.

“Huh? What’s wrong??” Ink pulled back, looking at Dream in concern.

“Ah- it’s nothing!” Dream insisted. Ink did not believe the obvious lie.

“Are you hurt? Where? I can help heal you!” Ink practically bounced in place. It was now that Dream noticed that Ink was a little taller than him, and maybe older than him? But Ink reminded him of the puppies that some of the villagers had, bundles of excitement and energy.

“Heal me?” Dream asked, tilting his head. Other monsters could heal, too? He thought only Nighty and him could do that!

“Yeah!! I can paint your injuries back to normal!” Ink explained excitedly, smiling wide. His enthusiasm brought a proper smile to Dream’s face.

“Okay! If you wanna!” At that, Dream stuck out his arms to Ink, who pulled out a smaller paint brush. Somehow, the bristles were already covered in black ink. In a few quick, easy motions, Dream’s scrapes and forming bruises were gone, as if they had never existed in the first place. All that remained was a phantom ache.

“Whoa!! That’s so cool!!” Dream cheered, smiling excitedly at Ink who responded with his own massive grin.

“I know right?! Do you have any other injuries??” Dream nodded, pulling his pant legs up so that Ink could paint over his scrapes. Once Ink had finished, Dream started bouncing in place, pulling Ink into a new hug.

“You’re so cool!! Let’s be friends forever!!” Dream squealed, holding onto Ink tightly. Ink giggled happily, holding him back with a similar fierceness.

“Okay!!”


	6. Baby Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, some Proper angst, hope yall enjoy blue boy uwu  
> also yes this is on the shorter side, and has heavy exposition, i just didnt know how to do a proper intro for him oop

Silence echoed throughout the house, ringing noisily in Blue’s mind. It was hours before he was due to be up for another day of torture, yet he couldn’t sleep. It was nights like these that plagued him with his regular insomnia, nights after a day filled with words he dreamed of screaming.

He laid on his bed, sheets twisted from his tossing and turning. They were thin things, not providing much warmth or even comfort. Pinpricks of light in his eye sockets stared up at his ceiling, counting cracks for the millionth time. Absently, he brought up a hand to scratch at his newest injury, a nasty break in his radius. It was enough to keep him away from Alphys, the captain sending him off with well-wishes for him to recover.

A quiet sigh escaped Blue as he thought of where his injury had come from. Alphys had made the mistake of telling his brother just how well his “training” was going. He knew he was strong, stronger than either of them realized, and he had slipped up this time. Too much power in that spar, knocking Alphys clean off her feet. At least she had been impressed, almost proud of him. It felt nice, for a moment.

His brother wasn’t particularly happy about it, though.

Blue could still remember what happened with full clarity, seeing as the event had happened just yesterday, before he could escape the house for those scant few hours. An “accidental” bone attack that just _happened_ to get hurled at his bare arm, stabbing through it. The bone had been thin enough to not make a noticeable impression where it had stabbed into his bones, breaking the radius in half. Blue only had his high pain tolerance to thank for the way he didn’t scream.

Now, he was trapped in the house for the foreseeable future, with his brother as his guard. A forced excuse of how he was just so _clumsy_ sometimes, he just didn’t realize what he could do to himself when he climbed that tree. He had been so lucky to only break his arm, after all.

Blue despised it. He hated it here, he hated everything about this hellhole. He knew there were other Universes out there, they got visitors after all. Pap was nice, but he couldn’t understand, not completely. He wasn’t allowed to be around Edge or Red without “supervision”, but he liked to think they wouldn’t treat him like an oversized toddler. It wasn’t Classic’s fault for the false information his brother had fed him, either.

There were plenty of Universes, the Multiverse was a vast place, after all. But his brother would never explain in full when he left for those meetings. But Blue knew. Blue knew that there was more than the lies he had been fed. It didn’t matter if the truth was uglier than his false world, Blue wanted to see it.

But he can’t. He can never leave, can he?


	7. Apple Seeds (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at long last,,,, i update. this time with babeys. thisll have a 2nd part, btw uwo  
> (yes i Know its been nearly a month dont bully me qwq)

The Marketplace was loud and chaotic as Ink led him through the crowds, clutching onto the older monster’s hand like a lifeline. A festival was occurring, leading to the Marketplace practically bursting with swirling colors that nearly made Dream’s head spin from how many there were. He had never seen so many pretty sights in one place before, not even when the villagers would invite him (Only him, never Nighty) to their own festivities. 

Dream’s eyelights darted around excitedly, taking in as much as the area could offer. Carefully, he tugged at Ink’s hand as he noticed what appeared to be a stall carrying intricate pottery. As Ink turned back to look at him curiously, Dream pointed over to it.

“Can we go see?” Dream had to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd, but as Ink looked over to where he pointed, he was rewarded with a grin.

“Of course!” Ink chimed brightly, before starting to lead him through the crowd of monsters and humans. They were in a surface world, one where there had never been a war in the first place. 

As they grew closer to the stall, Dream couldn’t contain his excited bounce in his step. The stall owner gave them a kind smile, before returning to watching the crowds. It was obvious that the two children weren’t there to purchase anything, carrying no bags to place any items in, nor carrying pouches that would contain the currency of this Universe.

“They’re so pretty….” Dream murmured to Ink, who giggled and nodded.

“Look at this one, Dream!” Ink enthused, pointing to a delicate-looking porcelain vase. It had intricate patterns of flowers of all kinds, anything from thorny roses to imposing sunflowers creeping up the sides of the vase.

Dream enthusiastically “oo”ed and “ahh”ed appropriately as they examine the beautiful pottery. Though, it wasn’t long before Ink’s attention was stolen away once more, leading to the two children to wander the festival once more.

Soon enough, their travels brought them to the food stalls, specifically the ones showcasing the gorgeously ripe fruits and vegetables. Ink had sneakily painted up some of the currency they had seen exchanged around, alongside a pouch to carry it in, and a small bag for them to carry the goods in, that Dream had over his free arm.

“How do you feel about oranges?” Ink asked him as they wandered closer.

“What’s an orange?” Dream asked, causing Ink to stop in his tracks and whirl around, his eye sockets wide. One eyelight was an orange exclamation mark, while the other was a teal question mark.

“ _You’ve never had an orange before?!_ ” Ink exclaimed, suddenly taking Dream by the shoulders and gently shaking him back and forth.

“No??” Dream stared up at Ink in confusion, before Ink promptly released him and clasped his hands together.

“I am going! To educate you! On fruits!” Ink declared, grabbing Dream’s hand and immediately dragging him towards the colorful fruits. Their first stop was a stall that carried several fruits and vegetables, though Ink had his eyelights set on the bright oranges. Quickly trading a few gold pieces for two oranges, Ink handed the second to Dream.

“First things first, you gotta peel it.” Ink said as they wandered away from the stall, closer to a sitting area.

“Um, how do I do that?” Dream asked curiously as the older monster plopped onto the grass, Dream following soon after.

“Like this!” Ink cheered as he started peeling the fruit with his bare hands. Inevitably, juice got all over him. “Heheh, oops!” 

Dream watched carefully as Ink messily peeled the orange, before trying to replicate it (albeit much more carefully). He grinned as the mess was much less than Ink’s, turning to him and beaming.

“Great job Dreamy! Next, you eat it!” Ink promptly took a massive bite, smiling at him with orange in his mouth. Dream pouted at him and pushed at his face.

“Close your mouth while you eat!” Dream reprimanded while Ink cackled, before taking a smaller bite of his own orange. As the flavor burst in his mouth, he made an appropriately excited noise.

“Do ya like it?” Ink asked curiously, leaning closer. Somehow, Ink had completely devoured his own orange while Dream was experiencing his first bite.

“Mhm!” Dream hummed, taking another bite. Ink grinned at him, wrapping an arm over his shoulders.

“Great to hear! Once you finish that, we can try pineapple! I saw a stall with some, and-” Ink promptly started chattering on about the stuff he had seen in the stalls, Dream absently nodding along as he finished up his orange. Before he knew it, they had returned to the stalls, Ink leading him along again.

As Ink practically dragged Dream along by the hand, something odd and yellow caught his eyelight as they pulled up to a new stall. Glancing over, Dream had to do a double take at the nearby stall. Amidst their other fruits and vegetables, bright yellow ( _Golden_ ) apples sat, almost innocently and gleaming.

It had been a long time since the Incident had happened, but for Dream it was still a fresh event, despite these weeks travelling with Ink. He could remember the way his hands trembled as he grasped that last golden apple to his chest, staring on in horror as blood soaked the grass around their tree. The scent of fire and smoke raged in his nose, his whole body wracked with terrified shivers as the screaming increased in volume. He had only been gone an hour. It had only been an hour, how could this have happened in an hour, it was only an _hour_ -

Dream’s thoughts were abruptly halted as he felt himself picked up, eye sockets scrunched closed and his body shivering, not from the chill of the late evening. As his senses slowly returned to him, he could hear gentle shushes next to his skull overtop of the sounds of the lively crowd. He kept his eye sockets firmly closed until the crowd’s noise was quieter, the feeling of being settled in someone’s lap bringing him to open his eye sockets and release his death-grip. As he looked up shakily, he was met with Ink’s concerned gaze. 

“Dreamy? Are you okay?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and gentle, arms wrapped around him securely. Instead of responding with words, Dream hiccupped, before golden tears welled up in his eye sockets and poured down his cheeks. Embarrassed at crying, Dream shoved his face against Ink’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve gotcha, let it out.” Ink soothed, gently rubbing Dream’s back as the little immortal cried his soul out. 

“I’m not gonna let you go, I promise.” Those words made Dream sob painfully loud, small hands clutching at Ink’s shirt. All the while as Dream cried, Ink held onto him, shushing him gently and rubbing his back. He didn’t know what had set off Dream, but once the little immortal was soothed and calm, he would ask. Ink didn’t want this to happen again, after all.


	8. Apple Seeds (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY short chapter, i know. this one just didnt want to come out, plus noot wasn't vibin with me today. this chapter takes place roughly around "Hidden in the Framework" (chapter 4), which means that Dream has not escaped the statue, and Nightmare is about 8/9.

His servants served him apples with his lunch today. They had cut them up for their King, into neat little slices that sat innocently on his plate, serving partially as a garnish to the rest of his meal.

Nightmare didn’t process much of what the servants had left in the required spot for him, too focused on the apples. The skin was a nice green color, though if they were sour or sweet apples Nightmare was unsure of for the moment. The apples were fresh, Nightmare knew that at least. He only ordered the freshest ingredients to his castle, but even then he had been considering a garden of sorts to tend to that would produce fresher fruits and vegetables. 

His eyelight quivered ever so subtly as he stared down at his plate, focused on the apple slices. He wondered where they had come from, where it’s tree was located. Nightmare would need to check the purchase records made by the kitchen staff after his meal.

He left his plate back in the spot the servants had placed it, a simple note placed next to it. The note informed the servants that apples were to no longer be bought and brought to the castle.

If only the apple slices were missing from the plate, the rest of the food untouched, well, no one would tell on him.


	9. A Collection of Horrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> has it been a while since i last updated? yes.  
> did i just pump out a 3k+ monstrosity of a chapter thats 3/4s of the fic's word count (prior to this update)? also yes.  
> sitting here i am internally screaming bcuz these two clown just dragged me along for the ride, and i couldnt escape. i had to end it how i did because it wouldve became a full length novel by itself if i didnt.  
> this chapter takes place before "Half of a Whole", but after "Hidden in the Framework"  
> Nightmare is roughly 9/10 in this chapter.

Nightmare had been curious about this Universe. Negativity radiated from it in the steady pulse of a heartbeat, tainting the very structure of the world. He wasn’t as experienced and all-knowing on negativity as he liked to claim, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing. It usually meant something was wrong.

“Horrortale” was its name. Apparently, it was a continuation of the original Universe, one where the resets ended and what powered him reigned. Nightmare hadn’t been able to glean much else about the Universe, especially without the ability to access the coding, nor able (or willing) to speak to the inhabitants of the Multiverse to investigate further. It was mysterious, in his opinion.

Nightmare’s childish curiosity was what had led him here. He eyed the dark portal warily, knowing that there could be potential threats on the other side. His hands sat fisted in the oversized jacket he had acquired a little while back, the fabric as dark as the liquid that coated him. To step through and satisfy his curiosity, or to not step through. That was the question.

With a small huff and a shake of his head, Nightmare quickly made his way through before he could psych himself out. Can’t run away if he’s already in the middle of it, after all. As he exited through the other side of the portal, it snapped shut behind him, his form fading into the dark shadows. He was glad he had figured that ability out a while ago.

Already Nightmare felt unsettled by the Universe. He had appeared in Snowdin Forest, near the path to the Ruins if he remembered the geography right. Normally there was a lively sort of air in the snowy regions of the Underground, even in the darker and crueler Universes he fed from. But this place felt cold, and empty. Not devoid of life, if that had been true then he would’ve noticed by now. But something was _wrong_ about this place.

A shiver crept up Nightmare’s spine as he moved silently through the shadows, trying to find the path to the Ruins. Once he was by there, he’d be able to move around easier. There was too much negativity in the air for him to be able to pinpoint locations with ease. He could barely even sense the lingering threads of positivity, as if they had been frayed and sawed at. What happened in this terrible place?

Finally, the sentry station. Nightmare’s darkness curled around the rear of it, before he spread into the shadows of the side. Fuck, he could barely tell if anyone was around. The world felt empty enough that the chances of others being nearby was low, at least. It should be safe enough to leave the shadows and poke around the station, just for a few moments. Becoming one with the darkness made it difficult to snoop into things properly, though it did allow him better access to places he normally couldn’t get into.

Stepping out of the darkness, Nightmare internally cursed himself for his appearance. He wasn’t sure if he could change it, so for the time being he still looked his childish, young self. It was quite the pain. Who would respect a child, after all? None before had. All they did was harm him.

He was getting distracted by unimportant thoughts. Shoving them to the side, he started his snooping, slipping into the station itself. In the shelves underneath were long empty condiment bottles, coated in a layer of regular dust. They hadn’t been touched in a long while, if the completeness of the blanket of dust on the shelf was to say anything. Nightmare turned his back to the front of the sentry station, curiously peering in the back. Just a stool and…. A wire?-

Nightmare released a loud and undignified squeak as he was suddenly hauled over the front of the sentry station by a tentacle. Instead of being thrown into the snow, he was held aloft in the air, being turned to see his attacker.

He was a large, _large_ monster, a skeleton one. A large hole decorated the left side of the monster’s skull, and a large, unsettlingly red eyelight watched him. There was a pinprick of darkness in the center, distantly reminding Nightmare of a human pupil. The skeleton monster’s clothes were worn and bloodstained. The blood was faded, as if there had been a half-hearted attempt to clean it off.

He was terrifying.

Nightmare could barely remember to breathe as he stared up at the much larger monster. He knew he was being observed in return, that large, unsettling eyelight drifting over his small figure. It had been a long time since someone bigger and older than him had held him in the air by an appendage. At least, a long time for a mortal. It was lucky that his tentacles couldn’t be dislocated like a shoulder could, and that it didn’t hurt to be held above the ground by them.

Glancing down for a fraction of a second, Nightmare knew he was at least a foot in the air to make him nearly eye-level with the scary stranger. At least he wasn’t being dangled over the edge of a cliff, or a roof, or some other large height.

The pause as the monster observed Nightmare was long and terrifying (for Nightmare, that is). Finally, there was movement in the form of a slow blink, before Nightmare was roughly sat in the snow on his feet. The monster kept a grip on his tendril, though it seemed more of a way to ensure Nightmare wouldn’t flee. As if terror itself wasn’t gripping him with more strength than this stranger was.

“What’s…. A kid…. Doin’ ‘round here….” The monster spoke slowly, and Nightmare guessed that it was because of the head wound. “‘Specially…. A well fed one….”

Was he supposed to say something? Explain himself? He didn’t even know if this Universe had access to others, what was Nightmare supposed to say?

“It’s dang’rous…. Around here…. ‘Specially outside…. Of town….” Was…. Was Nightmare being scolded? He was so confused. What the hell was happening.

Oh shit he was being looked at expectantly. Shit fuck what was he supposed to say?? 

“I’m- not from here?” Nightmare managed to bite out. A brow bone was raised at him, almost sarcastically. “I’m uh- I’m from a- a different Universe.” Fuck he hated his fearful stutter.

It took a long, long moment for a response to be given. Another long moment of sheer terror holding onto Nightmare with a cruel, fierce grip.

“Are ya lyin’?” What kind of question was _that_? But the way this monster said it so intently, with no nonsense being taken in his tone….

“No- No I’m not.” Nightmare tried to have confidence in his voice, and stared straight up at the taller. He had at least two feet on him, which Nightmare distantly pouted about. Damn his childlike shortness.

The monster hummed for a second. It was an eerie noise, filling Nightmare with unease and discomfort. He didn’t like that noise, it felt bad. “What’re you…. Doin’ here, then…. If you got…. A home…” Well wasn’t that a question for the ages.

“Your- Your Universe is so filled with Negativity, I had to investigate.” Nightmare was proud of himself for only stuttering once. “I’m the Guardian of Negativity, it’s my duty to check this stuff out!” He puffed out his chest a little, trying to appear larger than he was. It didn’t work particularly well.

“Who…. Gave a kid…. That kinda…. Responsibility….” The monster sounded vaguely upset, and Nightmare tapped into his emotions to check. A roiling bubble of anger was surging lightly to the top, over a thick, oppressive layer of pure Hunger. The anger mixed with righteous fury and…. Protectiveness?

“I was made with this duty! It’s what I was created for!” If he couldn’t complete his original responsibilities anymore, he could at least do this right. Nightmare had to guard Negativity after all. It was the least he could do to atone for his sins.

“Kids…. Don’t got duties…. Yer just…. A kid….” The monster’s tone wasn’t patronizing, simply stating a fact as if he knew it was true. Checking, Nightmare couldn’t sense anything patronizing in his emotions.

“What do you mean?” He was confused, and stared up at the monster with confusion. When had his hand fallen from Nightmare’s tentacle? The tendril was curled against his back now, a defensive measure.

“Means…. You should be home…. With yer family…. Safe….” 

“I don’t have a family- I don’t _need_ a family!” Nightmare protested indignantly, puffing up like a stray kitten. “I am _perfectly_ capable of doing my job alone! I’ve got a castle and everything!”

A cyan blush settled over his cheeks as he realized he sounded nothing like the mature monster he was attempting to portray. Instead, he sounded like an upset little kid who wasn’t getting his way. Embarrassed, he crossed his arms and looked away from the monster, pouting.

Nightmare was startled from his indignance by a low, deep chuckle. Amusement had calmed the boiling waves of anger and frustration in the monster, though they still remained under the surface.

“Go home, kid…. Go have…. Dinner…. Don’t come back….” The monster gave him a large, unsettling grin. It was immediately off-set by Nightmare getting his head gently pat a few times. He pouted more fiercely.

“Fine! I will! And I won’t come back! Ever!” Nightmare gave his fiercest glare at the monster (ignoring the way the monster’s grin widened), before turning on his heel and opening a portal back to his castle. He could feel the monster’s curiosity and wonder as he marched through, but he wasn’t followed.

Nightmare tried to stay true to his word. 

It was only a week later he ended up at that sentry station again.

This time, Nightmare had perched himself on the front counter of the sentry station, his legs swinging idly. Logically he knew he wasn’t _really_ that high up, but it felt like he was miles above the ground. And in order to keep himself calm, he simply didn’t look down. The perfect plan.

He had a candy bar, still unopened and in its packaging, sat on his lap. It was some chocolate bar he had stolen from a store in a different, less hostile, Universe. Reaching out, Nightmare was determined to look further into this Universe, and properly understand what was wrong with the inhabitants. His eye socket slipped closed.

This was proven a mistake, when several minutes later a large hand settled onto his shoulder. Nightmare squeaked loudly, flinching away and nearly tumbling off of the sentry station, if the touch to his shoulder hadn’t switched to a grab. He was pulled back from the edge, scooted further backwards to avoid falling again. Looking up, Nightmare locked eyelights with that very same monster he had met just a week ago.

“Didn’t…. You say…. You’d leave?” His voice was slow, words almost slurred. In Nightmare’s opinion, the monster sounded more tired than when he last saw him.

“I- uh- yes? I came back! But! Only for a few minutes!” Nightmare insisted, shaking the monster’s hand off his shoulder and holding his candy bar to his chest and pouting. The skeleton monster’s large eyelight seemed to catch on the candy bar, brow bone rising in curiosity. Nightmare could sense that roiling hunger underneath the surface rearing its ugly head.

“Havin’ food…. Is dangerous here….” The monster’s voice was softer, as if he was restraining himself. Nightmare glanced down at his candy bar, before looking back up at the larger monster. Making a decision, he opened the candy bar and pulled it in half, offering the other half to the monster.

“Want it?” Nightmare asked, pushing down his nervousness at being near a larger monster (one who could easily break him in half and probably hide his dust). The monster felt shocked, surprised that Nightmare would give up any of his food. Blinking after a second, he nodded slowly, carefully taking the candy bar from Nightmare.

He promptly shoved his entire half in his mouth, and it was gone in seconds. Nightmare blinked rapidly, awkwardly watching before proceeding to nibble on his own half. His own eyelight glanced away, not wanting to bother the other.

The next time they met, it was only a couple days later.

Nightmare had brought a granola bar this time, something else he had stolen. He was perched on that same sentry station. And like clockwork, the large monster would arrive in at least ten minutes.

Slowly, Nightmare learned more about the Universe through bits and pieces shared. They kept meeting. Nightmare couldn’t help but be curious about this strange Universe, after all. It was just so drenched in Negativity.

He learned more, through the bits and pieces shared. A cruel queen, a human child that the monster couldn’t remember, a famine partially caused by a queen’s hoarding. Nightmare was afronted at what he learned of the queen. What kind of ruler did she think she was? Nightmare himself wasn’t the best, or kindest king, but he fed the people who lived in the small village outside of the castle, and he made sure they could survive, and he paid those who worked in his castle.

It made him mad, seeing the state of this Universe and knowing that, perhaps, things could’ve been better if the queen wasn’t as cruel. It was probably a simplistic way of thinking, but it was Nightmare’s opinion.

And then one day, their meeting was different.

Nightmare had settled himself on the sentry station again, this time with another candy bar, when the monster (who had called himself Sans) appeared. There was an air of fearful urgency as Sans approached him. Looking up at the larger curiously, Nightmare couldn’t help his squeak as he was abruptly lifted and pulled into Sans’s arms. He was shushed rather abruptly as they started moving, quicker than Nightmare had seen him move before.

He shoved his candy bar into his inventory as Sans carried him off the main roads, and into Snowdin Forest. “What’s going on?” Nightmare murmured, sensing the need for quiet. He was only rewarded with a small huff. His confusion and fright rose.

Eventually, Sans deemed them far enough from the main roads to sit down against a tree, keeping Nightmare well within his grasp and on his lap. He panted quietly, closing his eye sockets for a moment before reopening them to look down at Nightmare.

“You picked…. A bad time…. To show up….” Sans rumbled, though there was no anger in his voice, merely concern. Nightmare was silent for a long moment.

“‘M sorry….” He finally mumbled, ducking his head as his tentacles curled around himself protectively. “But….” Nightmare glanced back up. “What’s wrong?”

Sans sighed, patting Nightmare’s head before resting his hand there. “Queen’s vistin’.... No one…. Sticks in town…. While she’s here….”

The queen? Huh. No wonder they all fled the town. From what Nightmare knew, the queen would kill anyone she came across. Or at least make them miserable. Well, more miserable than they were now.

Nightmare curled into the larger, looking away again. “Sorry for making you come get me….” He kept his voice down, not wanting to bother Sans further. He was given a soft chuckle.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” Sans grinned down at the little monster in his lap. Nightmare hated his size, and the fact that Sans could so easily pick him up like he weighed nothing more than a handful of grapes.

That was the first, and only time, Nightmare appeared during the queen’s visit. 

After that, Nightmare felt a plan come into shape. He needed power in order to hold onto his title as self-proclaimed king. And any good king needed loyal subjects, right? Finally, the plan formed.

He hesitantly brought up the idea of the queen being gone the next time they met, while sharing an orange he had brought along. Sans had chuckled, grinning at him and saying he dreamed of the day she’d dust.

It wasn’t much, but it was good enough for Nightmare.

It was especially good enough to use to taunt the queen when she laid dying in front of him, impaled on his tendrils. He mocked her, never letting her see what he really looked like. She died a disgrace, and perhaps Nightmare would’ve felt pity for her, if it wasn’t her own fault her subjects despised her.

Nightmare placed himself as king. His first act was to bring food to the entirety of the Underground. They loved him for killing the corrupt queen, and for feeding them at long last. These monsters would never return to how they were, but Nightmare didn’t mind. Their suffering had brought a hidden strength.

His next act was to offer the monsters a new world to live in, one under the sky, surrounding his castle. Nightmare wasn’t surprised that they practically leaped for the chance to escape the barren wasteland that had become of the Underground.

It took a couple of weeks as Nightmare had been busy getting things moving, but eventually, Nightmare met Sans at that sentry station. He sat on the front counter, idly swinging his legs, with an unopened candy bar in his lap.

And like clockwork, within ten minutes at most, the larger monster arrived.

“What's…. The little king…. Doin’ in these parts?” Sans raised a brow bone at him, watching with mild amusement.

“I wanted to speak to you.” Nightmare responded, opening his candy bar and splitting it in half, handing one to the larger.

“‘Bout what?”

“Would you like to work directly under me?” Nightmare offered this as if he were offering his candy to Sans again. As if this was a perfectly normal and reasonable thing to say. Sans was silent for a _very_ long moment.

“Why…. Would ya want…. Me of all folks?” Sans was almost painfully confused, though Nightmare could sense a small, flickering flame of hope starting to form. He smiled at the larger monster, swinging his legs calmly. 

“Because I trust you.”


	10. Slow as a Snail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we haven't heard from error in a while, lets check up on him!

The world around him felt almost clinical.

Error wasn’t sure what that word meant.

It was empty and white and clean, unable to be dirtied by anything, unable to be colored in like a coloring book.

Error didn’t like the Endless White very much.

At least he could look out his Windows, like looking into little pockets of beautiful color that painted the landscape better than any crayons could.

His Windows showed him many things. Starry skies, gem filled caves, snowy forests, red hot magma.

It was a small comfort after the words of abuse she hurled at him.

Error didn’t like her, the one all too different from the caring words of Fate.

She wanted him to exit through his solid Windows, to leave the Endless White and to hurt others.

He was pretty sure she’d be delighted if he hurt himself. 

It wasn’t too rare for her to make him cry, and curl into a tight little ball with his face pressed against his legs so he couldn’t see anything at all.

Error didn’t really like crying, either.

Once, he asked Fate if the Endless White had a different name.

The Antivoid, She told him. A world between worlds, that corrupts and twists.

It would never corrupt or twist him, however. He was a child of the Antivoid, and he would forever be tied to it.

Error hummed along as he tried to understand Her words.

The Antivoid was his home, he’d give Her that. Admittedly, he couldn’t picture himself living comfortably in any of the places he would see in his Windows.

He’d like to visit them someday, though.

Once, he asked her why she was so mean to him.

She laughed, and she laughed, and she laughed at him, making his skull burn a bright color he couldn’t see with embarrassment for asking at all.

He deserved her cruelty, her anger. If he hadn’t been a stupid child, a slow child who learned at a pace slower than a snail’s, she wouldn’t have to do this.

Error understood, even as Fate tried to tell him differently.

It made sense, didn’t it? He couldn’t even make his Windows into exits, couldn’t make more than a few threads from his eye sockets.

He cried that day. But that was alright.

He could cry as many tears as he had to before he could leave. At least Fate was there, with her kind words and soothing presence. She didn’t make him hurt like she did.

At least Error understood now. He was a slow, stupid child. That’d never change, like the endless emptiness of the Antivoid would never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,,ah.


End file.
